Weep for literary culture. After Salman Rushdie's ex-girlfriend accused him of still pining for his ex-wife Padma Lakshmi in Page Six yesterday, Rushdie has responded in kind today. We are all trapped in the eighth grade, which never ends.

Yesterday, Rushdie's ex-fling Pia Glenn told the Post that Rushdie "talk[ed] about Padma day and night," and that he was a dick because she wanted to have his children and he dumped her via e-mail. This is roughly analogous to your drunken ex-girlfriend e-mailing you a vicious screed in the middle of the night, and most adults have learned that the safe, gentlemanly thing to do is do not respond to those e-mails. Salman Rushdie, however, is no gentleman.

So he wrote a lengthy, angry statement to Page Six proving that a) he is a thin-skinned, defensive child, and b) he is absolutely, incontrovertibly, indubitably still in love with Padma Lakshmi. It bears quoting at length:

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The reason I broke up with Pia Glenn is that I came to feel that she's an unstable person who carries around a large, radioactive bucket of stress wherever she goes. It was just exhausting to deal with.

Her recent explosions . . . demonstrate that she is also an accomplished liar.

It is hard even to list the untruths in her article. We never lived together — she lived at her father's home in Freeport, LI. We never agreed to have children together. Our relationship lasted five and a half months, so it's hard to see how I 'stole a year' of her life.

What most distresses me, however, is her statement that I am still 'obsessed' with my ex-wife, Padma Lakshmi. When my marriage to Padma ended I was saddened and hurt, that's true, but that was two and a half years ago, and, like any adult, I have accepted the world as it is.

As any of my friends can attest, I long ago turned the page and moved on. It's absurd of Ms. Glenn to say otherwise. I wish Padma nothing but the best, particularly now that she is expecting, and have written to her to congratulate her. End of story.

Shouldn't spending a decade or so of your life under constant threat of assassination by a global band of violent fanatics who want to silence you teach you something about what matters in life, and what does not matter? Note to Salman Rushdie: Shit like this does not matter. Stop talking to Page Six. Also, please do not stop talking to Page Six, because post-midlife-crisis dissolutions are fun to write about.